The Arena Battle at Lion's Arch: A Play
by TheGenericWriter
Summary: Five heroes are forced into an arena match with the reigning champions of the Lion's Arch Arena to extract a key piece of information, but when leadership and cooperation issues begin to arise, it is up to the five to hold onto the tenuous alliance that keeps them from slaying each other in the depths of the arena. What comes next is a tale of chivalry, suspense, and adventure!
1. Act One:

**The Arena Battle at Lion's Arch:**

 **A Play.**

Background: During the reformation of Overwatch, some heroes of Overwatch were tasked with extracting information from several rogue members of a criminal organization known as the Gilded Rings. Unfortunately for the six, the normal weapons they donned were left behind; only able to use whatever the armory had to offer.

The Iron Bulwark:

Rytlock Brimstone:

Tribune to Blood Legion and the Guild Master to Dragon's Watch. Former arena gladiator, now turned Overwatch Agent and collaborator.

Reinhardt Wilhelm:

Colonel and Agent of Overwatch, close friend to Pliskin Hall, he is appointed as the leader of the Iron Bulwark.

Sly Cooper:

Master thief and reformed criminal, he now supports Overwatch to the maximum extent of his influence.

Pliskin Hall:

Adventurer and Overwatch agent, he was hastily brought in from an operation at the Berlin Opera to partake in the gladiatorial bouts.

Nathan Drake:

World renowned explorer and Overwatch contact, he was pressured into signing up to clear up a former incident with S.H.I.E.L.D.

Grog Strongjaw:

Arena champion and former member of a guild, he now travels from arena to arena to prove his worth following the adventures with Vox Machina.

Attendants

Guards

Waiters

A Chef

Foreman

Hector

Magnus, the Bloody Handed

The Gilded Ring: (Silent)

* * *

 **Act One:**

 **Scene One**

[The underground pits of the Lion's Arch Arena, the final match is to be held, metal clanking and sparring is audible.]

 _[Enter Pliskin and Reinhardt]_

Pliskin: I can't believe you dragged me out here Rein! Got any word about that?

Reinhardt: Sighs I vish there vas some other method dear friend, but we need anyone das vas villing to help.

Pliskin: [Interjected] Though I assume that you couldn't get a meatier person to like, do some more lifting 'eh?

 _He nudges Reinhardt's shoulderplate._

Reinhardt: Vell, das one thing, though you're ze only one on my contacts list!

Pliskin: (Shaking head) Did you even try, and I mean, try to call anyone else but me?

Reinhardt: Of course not! You're the only one I have!

 _[Enter Sly, holding his cane.]_

Sly: (Pacing around, eying the room) Managed to retrieve my cane, sabotaged the enemy's equipment, and got us a few weapons.

 _[Enter Nathan Drake]_

Nathan Drake: Panting Yeah, managed, to uh, unscrew 'em and those, bolts.

 _He looks at Pliskin_

Nice tux.

Pliskin: (Eying his clothing) Right, (He chuckles) forgot about that!

Sly: Couldn't you have, well I don't know, _changed_ , your choice of clothing?

Pliskin: At least I'm fighting in style.

 _[They grimace]_

Reinhardt: Ja! But wait until those Gilded Rings charge at zhe one wearing zhe tailcoat!

Pliskin: Scoffs Do you have any other suggestions as to my fashion choice?

 _[They nod their heads]_

Nathan Drake: (Inhales) Well. Now that's settled with, who wants to tell the brute we're ready?

 _[Pliskin appears confused]_

Pliskin: Who's this _brute_?

Reinhardt: It's another pit fighter, his name is-

Sly: [Interjected] Grog. Grog Strongjaw. The most _recent_ arena champion here.

Nathan Drake: Yeah, heard he's this beast of a goliath!

Sly: He's actually _a_ goliath.

 _He tips his hat._

Reinhardt: Zhat's not true at all! Allegedly, he's slaughtered countless innocents, and has shown no honor in the face of battle!

 _He spits on the floor._

Bah, like he's some sort of, _renowned_ mercenary of fame.

Pliskin: Seems like a mean guy.

Nathan Drake: (Darting his head around) Look, I don't want to insult the guy but, you think it's some sort of act he's putting on?

Pliskin: Don't know. Never met him. Rein, you ever meet him before?

Reinhardt: (Shakes his head) Nein.

Pliskin: Have you guys met him before landing yourselves here?

 _[Both Sly and Nathan nod their heads.]_

 _[Enter Grog]_

[Footsteps are audible in the background]

Sly: I think _that_ could be him.

Grog: Allroight you mutton chops listen up! I 'ave the most experience here and I will lead your sorry asses to victory! Got any questions?

Sly and Nathan: (Timidly) No Grog.

Grog: Good! Now, fetch our weapons and uh, we'll be off slaying!

Sly and Nathan: (Bowing their heads) Right away Grog.

 _[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]_

Grog: Ah, Reinhardt.

 _(Pats his back)_

You got a plan or two or three?

Reinhardt: (Chuckles) Hah! I made one, and another, though with Rytlock's consent of course.

Grog: (Looks at Pliskin) And who's the little pup that came in?

Reinhardt: Oh, zhat's just P-

Pliskin: [Interjected] Pliskin, Pliskin Hall.

 _He attempts to shake his hand, albeit weakly._

Brother in arms to Reinhardt Wilhelm and no stranger to the arena!

Grog: (Grinning) This, this is the help you got us? The last man for our six man team?

Reinhardt: Ja! Isn't he just wunderball for zhe team!

Grog: (Laughing) He-he's pathetic! Look at him! Wearing some fancy-smancy rich clothing with a' prim and proper bowtie huh?

Pliskin: (Smirking) Pathetic is one word to describe it.

Grog: So the pup can speak too!

Pliskin: Doing it right now. Can the Grog fight with a sword?

Grog: 'course I can! Can the pup thrust as well?

Pliskin: Learned that in fencing.

Grog: Can the pup fight well then?

Pliskin: I've been fighting with you, well, ever since I set my eyes on you.

Grog: (Lunges at Pliskin but is blocked by Reinhardt) Testing me boy?

Reinhardt: Zhat vill be enough Grog.

Pliskin: (Gesturing Reinhardt aside) I'm sure our new acquaintance understands it's playful banter.

Grog: (After backing away): Yeah, sure it's playful banter!

Reinhardt: Zhen I shall give you our strategy.

 _(Hands over papers)_

Grog: What's this?

 _(Rummages through the documents, appears confused.)_

Can't read the damn thing!

Reinhardt: It vas Rytlock's idea.

Pliskin: Maybe if you _try_ reading it like _this,_

 _(Rearranges the paper)_

You can understand it?

Grog: (Still looking at the paper) Still can't see it!

Reinhardt: (Smirking) Heh, wait for Rytlock if you can't read it.

Grog: (Eying Reinhardt) Another challenger I suppose? Maybe if ya' remove that fancy armor we can duke it out.

Reinhardt: I'd have to deny that request, though if you were armored zhe-

Pliskin: [Interjected] Easy there Rein, Grog. We're a team right?

Grog: A teammate gladly accepts a spar if that's the case.

 _[Enter Rytlock]_

Rytlock: (Snarling) Alright, listen up. If you got a problem with the plans I made then you gotta go bug me then.

Pliskin: Hey there Rytlock.

Rytlock: And hello to you too.

 _(Moves to face Grog)_

Got any questions then?

Grog: I got one.

 _(Holds the papers in his hand)_

Can't read your brilliant ideas.

Rytlock: Torch that. We're winging it.

Grog: Rightfully so!

Reinhardt: [Interjected] Are you out of your mind?

Rytlock: Look, I've been here before. Know how these ruffians fight like the back of my claws.

Reinhardt: These are zhe arena champions! Remember vhat happened when you fought Eir and her team?

Rytlock: _That_ was a lack of coordination between the three of us.

Reinhardt: So essentially a lack of a plan?

Rytlock: _No,_ we _had_ , a plan. Thing was those two got under my fur and went off and did their own little flame dance.

Grog: I agree with the German for once.

Rytlock: _I'm_ leading, and _I'm_ saying that _I'm_ tearing the plan to flames.

Reinhardt: Ja, but does zhat me we're going to win?

Rytlock: 'course we are. Thanks to Rein-

Grog: [Interjected] Me mostly.

Pliskin: Sighs We seriously have to deal with this?

Rytlock: Not under my watch.

Grog: Alright, you're our captain. I bet I've won an' fought in more arenas than you.

Pliskin: We're dealing with this aren't we?

Rytlock: Look punk, you might of fought around the globe but I fought here. Take it's your first time here?

Grog: Fourth.

Rytlock: Reinhardt?

Reinhardt: Third.

Rytlock: Pliskin?

Pliskin: Second.

 _The scene is quiet for a moment, Rytlock paces around in disbelief._

Grog: Bit outnumbered there 'eh Rytlock?

Rytlock: Well then. Guess I'm gonna have to remake those over dinner.

 _[Exeunt]_

* * *

 **Scene Two:**

[The Armory of the arena, a dark and cold place with a few torches to light the room.]

 _[Enter Sly and Nathan]_

Sly: You know, that Grog isn't the brightest one here.

 _(He turns around to check the door)_

Heard he can't even read.

Nathan Drake: You think? He's the bulkiest dude here.

Sly: That too, though don't you think our team is well,

 _(He pauses)_

Overbearing?

Nathan Drake: Was thinking you'd say overweight.

Sly: I mean, majority of them are over their heads.

Nathan Drake: It's practically a requirement to join Overwatch.

Sly: You're heads over heels with that one.

Nathan Drake: I'm just over it.

Sly: Sighing Why are we here anyways?

Nathan Drake: Collecting weapons? Damn place needs some touch ups.

Sly: But that has me thinking, why can't we call the shots in the arena?

Nathan Drake: Have you actually been in an arena?

Sly: Of course I have! Heists, thieveries, sabotage-

Nathan Drake: [Interjected] No, like _actually_ fought in an arena.

Sly: Oh you mean that type of visit. No I haven't.

Nathan Drake: These guys can fucking kill you if you aren't watching! One wrong move and *splat* you're dead!

Sly: I mean if you watch your back or know what you're doing then the likelihood decreases.

 _(Pauses)_

An opinion of course.

Nathan Drake: Like you're gonna call the shots on this one.

Sly: (While picking up weapons) That depends if the match goes to shit. 'Course we did sabotage and rile up the Rings.

Nathan Drake: I wonder how that's gonna turn out.

 _(He begins to pick up weapons)_

Totally didn't bet or anything.

Sly: Betting you did though.

Nathan Drake: Well you got me then.

Sly: Chuckles Who are you betting on then?

Nathan Drake: (Slyly gives him a grin) Three hundred gold on the Gilded Rings.

Sly: (Instantly looks at Nathan) You're kidding.

Nathan Drake: Afraid not pal.

Sly: You bet three hundred? Not even at least a hundred?

 _(Places the weapons against the door)_

I take that you don't have high expectations for this arena team.

Nathan Drake: No shit. You think with all the problems in the past week or so we'd be claiming gold and standing on the podium?

Sly: I mean we did last this far though.

Nathan Drake: Exactly, we quote _lasted_ unquote. You bet that we're actually gonna last?

Sly: Sure, if your's truly gets to direct this performance.

Nathan Drake: Fair comparison, but why the hell are we down here exactly?

Sly: Gathering weapons of course. Armor, all the goods Nate.

Nate: Yeah,

 _(He laughs to himself)_

What did we need again?

Sly: According to Rytlock's plan, we need a crap-ton of gunpowder, spears, and anything metal.

Nathan Drake: Wasn't that the scrapped one Rytlock had in mind?

Sly: No, the second one after he trashed the fourth one during breakfast.

Nathan Drake: Told 'ya. We're gonna get our asses handed to us.

Sly: I'm just following what the most recent one was.

Nathan Drake: (Eyes set on rifles) I can see what the gunpowder is for.

Sly: Might want to take two or three.

Nathan Drake: I take it Pliskin's gonna be firing away?

Sly: He usually does.

Nathan Drake: Gonna make that three guns then. But hey,

 _(He picks up a pistol from a rack on the back wall.)_

Ever done smuggling before?

Sly: I'm familiar with it. Whaddaya got?

Nathan Drake: How about, we smuggle these pistols in?  
Sly: Don't be crazy, well. It can work. Depends if there's guards checking every weapon we use.

Nathan Drake: Thinking about hiding them in our pockets?

Sly: Pistols that caliber can't fit inside typical pockets.

Nathan Drake: No this,

 _(He holds a 9 millimeter pistol.)_

Think this can fit?

Sly: Maybe, depends on what we're gonna wear.

Nathan Drake: I'm gonna take it then.

Sly: All on you, all on you.

 _(There is a brief pause as they scramble to grab whatever they can get. Then there is sudden banging.)_

Guard One: Who goes there? Open the door at once!

 _(Sly and Nathan remain quiet, they hid behind some weapon racks though the rattling can be heard.)_

Guard One: If anyone's in there we're giving you five seconds to come out!

 _(Sly and Nathan begin inching backward backstage)_

Guard One: (In numerical order) One… two… three… four…

 _(While the guard is counting down, the duo is smashing down the back wall.)_

Guard One: Five!

 _(The guards ram down the door, yet the only scene is a plundered armory.)_

Guard One: Find them you rats!

 _(He picks up a helmet and shoves it in another guard's hands.)_

Sly: (From Backstage) You'll think they'll find us here?

Nathan Drake: Only if you keep talking.

Sly: This is the exact problem with the six, no, five of us. We can't shut up.

Nathan Drake: Can't blame me!

Sly: Now shut up!

 _[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]_

Guard One: (Continues to search the room) If we must rob and beat every fighter here for those weapons, we'll do so!

Guard Two: But sir! We found-!

Guard One: [Interjected] I don't care for hidden passages or causeways! If any pit fighter dares to smuggle a weapon into the pit, hah, they'll wish a life sentence was offered!

 _[Exeunt]_

* * *

 **Scene Three:**

[A banquet hall, the majority of the characters are seated and eating.]

 _[Enter Attendants, Waiters, and Chef]_

Attendant One: They're getting a banquet to themselves?

Attendant Two: Seems fair if death is on the line.

Attendant One: Why not the other gladiators locked up in their own filth?

Attendant Two: Likely because they're famous here.

Attendant One: If only, Pauses If only anyone can be like the Strongjaw there.

Waiter One: (Passing by) Strongjaw? Grog? Don't count on a good showing if you ask me.

 _(He walks away)_

Attendant One: But wouldn't it be better if one of the more, _lower ranked_ gladiators be a part of this dream team?

Attendant Two: It is only a matter of time friend. Don't imagine Grog for remaining in his throne for long.

 _(They take out a lute and a violin and play.)_

Rytlock: Ah, gotta love the shrimp they serve here.

Pliskin: Didn't we get a banquet after defeating that lieutenant?

Rytlock: (Chews on his food) Oh yeah! Hah, never going to get on a boat ever again!

Nathan Drake: It honestly depends on the situation Rytlock.

Rytlock: Scoffs Might I remind you that a certain someone got seasick on our voyage to Stormwind?

Nathan Drake: (Pauses) Well I uh, admit to that.

Rytlock: Look, I know we got beef with each other but it's a banquet. A decent one at best.

 _(The music continues to play)_

Attendant Two: Look at that. They all hate each other.

Attendant One: Not really however. You see that dressed one at the end of the table?

Attendant Two: I do.

Attendant One: That's allegedly Pliskin Hall. Boy has a charm to him.

Attendant Two: What do you mean allegedly?

Attendant One: (Puts down his violin.) I mean it is him, face, hair, impeccable way of socializing.

Attendant Two: (Chuckles, puts down the lute.) He's naive. Thinks everyone is either respecting him or trusting of him.

Attendant One: What makes you say that?

Attendant Two: It's his character. Innocent smile and all.

Attendant One: So you mean he's too trusting?

Attendant Two: Sighs Wouldn't you like the liberty of finding out for yourself or would you have me spoil the fun?

 _(The chef walks past)_

Chef: And you yourselves are spoiling the fun.

 _(The two attendants play again)_

Grog: Food's terrible.

Pliskin: I mean it must be better than what you're served with the other gladiums here.

Grog: It's still terrible.

Pliskin: Have you tried the steak at least? It's good. To me though.

Reinhardt: (Leaning to whisper to Pliskin) _He demanded everzhing on zhe menu._

Pliskin: (Whispering back) _So you say then._

Reinhardt: Just to let you know Chris.

 _(He winks at him.)_

Grog: Oi'! Bring me more ale!

Sly: Does he always demand booze twenty four seven?

Rytlock: Nulls the pain.

Sly: Don't you consume whiskey too?

Rytlock: It's recreational, I commissioned the Citadel to build a distillery on those damned ruins.

Sly: But you still drink whiskey though?

Rytlock: I do. And I'm drinking some right now.

Grog: Whiskey? Hah. Piss poor drink.

Rytlock: I guess you never tasted the finest Black Whiskey from the Citadel?

Grog: Never had the fortune to.

Rytlock: How 'bout I get you some? I am Blood Legion though. Tribune too.

Grog: I wouldn't care much for it.

Rytlock: I'll get you some.

 _(He hails a waiter over.)_

Get me some of my Black Whiskey, for the big guy over there.

Waiter One: Right away sir.

 _(He walks away.)_

Grog: If you promised me, then you must honor it.

Rytlock: Of course I will. Tribune's honor.

Grog: Your honor? Scoffing Rytlock 'ere claims he has some honor!

 _(He slams the banquet table.)_

Rytlock: Whatever, here he comes.

 _(The waiter whispers unintelligible words in his ear.)_

 _(Rytlock responds with a few other words in his ear)_

 _(Whispered:) Go tell him then._

 _He points to Grog, arms crossed with his gaze set towards Rytlock._

Waiter One: (Walking towards Grog) I'm sorry, but we don't carry your friend's whiskey here.

Grog: (Scooting forward) So the charr doesn't have his ale?!

Rytlock: Can't blame me for the diplomatic situation.

Grog: You have no honor!

 _(He draws his battleaxe.)_

Rytlock: You really want to do this now huh?

 _(He draws Sohothin, a flaming blade.)_

Grog: (Strikes first, an arcing blow to smash Rytlock's head, but the axe is parried by his sword.)

 _You brought us nothing but trouble!_

 _(They fight.)_

Rytlock: (Attempts to riposte, Grog manages to dodge the slash.)

 _What you're saying is that hate my leading style!_

Grog: That's what I'm saying!

Rytlock: (Manages to lock weapons with Grog.)

 _Then you gotta accept it then!_

Grog: (Drops his axe and punches Rytlock; his sword drops and the flame vanishes. He picks up a chair yet it is crushed to pieces.)

 _I've fought and killed and bruised and battered more than you have here in this arena!_

 _(He punches Rytlock's abdomen.)_

 _I deserve every right to lead this motley team!_

Pliskin: (Standing and draws his cavalry sabre.)

 _What did he say?!_

Reinhardt: Sit down junger Wolf.

 _[The people in the scene all watch the scuffle.]_

Reinhardt: (Activates his shield) Enough!

 _(Muttered):_ _Du verdammte Idioten …_

You two are only sowing more division in zhis team!

 _(Rytlock and Grog are separated by Reinhardt's body, which is large enough to divide them.)_

Pliskin, Sly, and Nathan Drake: Reinhardt-

Reinhardt: [Interjected] Nein.

 _(Facing Rytlock.)_

I've called you a friend Rytlock, but I cannot tolerate zhis behavior any longer.

 _(Facing Grog)_

And you, Herr Grog.

Grog: Yeah?

Reinhardt: I cannot tolerate you and your constant complaining. So vhat if Rytlock doesn't have a plan? So vhat if, he didn't have your liquor?

 _(He spits on the floor)_

Honorless coward.

Grog: So you dare insult my honor too 'eh? I choose to rage!

 _(He leaps forward, smashing his battleaxe against his shield.)_

Pliskin: No!

 _(He draws his cavalry sabre.)_

 _Have at thee! Allez!_

Rytlock: (Standing up, motioning to the crowd.) Get back! It's their fight now.

Pliskin: (Attempts to riposte Grog's second blow to Reinhardt's shield, the sound of steel and energy pulsing is audible.)

 _Disloyal bastard!_

 _(Another strike is attempted, Pliskin manages to counter the blow.)_

 _Disgraceful brute!_

Reinhardt: (Pushes his shield against Grog, he later disengages from the counterattack.)

 _Dammit!_

Pliskin: (Attempts to slide around him, though crashes against a table. He takes to swinging his sword at him though only hits the handle and surrounding tables.)

 _Rrragh! Rats!_

[The crowd watches the fight, Sly draws his cane while Nathan Drake holds his pistol.]

Grog: Hah! Giving up human?

Pliskin: Snarls Nrragh!

Grog: Laughing You're full of it aren't 'ya!

Pliskin: Not as much as you think!

Grog: (Gives Reinhardt a grin and pushes himself forward passing through his barrier. He manages to bodyslam Pliskin to a table.)

 _Still holding onto- ARGH!_

Pliskin: (Manages to cut Grog's right leg as he attempts to knock him out. They both drop their weapons.)

 _My friends?_

Rytlock: (Running towards Grog's bleeding body.) Take him to the medical ward. I'll handle the rest.

Attendant One: (Bowing head.) Right away.

 _(Attendants take out a cot, and require the assistance of Rytlock and the other attendant to usher Grog away. He groans in pain.)_

 _[Exeunt Grog and Attendants.]_

Rytlock: (Holds his hand to help Pliskin up, he accepts.) What were you thinking kid?

Pliskin: Grunts, pops his shoulder back into place. Had to help Reinhardt.

Rytlock: Had to charge in huh?

Reinhardt: It's nothing Rytlock. He still has lots to learn.

Rytlock: Agreed. Don't want our little friend to get his head knocked off too soon.

Pliskin: (Sarcastically) Little friend indeed.

Where the hell are they hauling him to? The medical ward?

Rytlock: They're dumping him in the bay, (Pauses)

Of course they're bringing him to those medics.

Reinhardt: We need to get our act together. Overwatch cannot have some of zhe best members have a leadership dispute.

Rytlock: Right, that's why your's truly is organizing a last minute warband team-pep rally.

Nate, Sly, meet us upstairs.

Nathan and Sly: [In unison] Got it!

 _[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]_

Rytlock: Pliskin, Reinhardt, got time for a word or two?

Pliskin: Sure.

Reinhardt: Of course.

Rytlock: Pauses Look, I know that Grog and I don't see eye to eye with each other but, he's an old friend of mine.

Pliskin: Old friend you say?

Rytlock: Yeah, remember that time when the guild was all hung up here in Lion's Arch or two?

Pliskin: The time you saved my ass when I fell in the pits?

Rytlock: Riiight. Anyways, that night after some shenanigans with Logan and Garm, stumbled across that Vox Machina guild.

 _(He gives off a faint smile.)_

I arm-wrestled their strongest member. Guess who that was?

Pliskin and Reinhardt: [In unison] Grog.

Rytlock: Yeah. We chatted and all that. Thought he was a cool guy at best. Seems like he's changed.

Reinhardt: Surely. I heard he and his guild have gone zheir separate ways.

Rytlock: May be.

Pliskin: People change all the time, but I got one question to ask.

Rytlock: Shoot it at me kid.

Pliskin: Was he always that rebellious?

Rytlock: Hell he was. Though he was more kept in line due to that gnome. Think they called her Pike.

Pliskin: I mean if she died then obviously he has to take a turn for the worse.

Rytlock: Maybe so.

Reinhardt: Have you kept any tabs with he and his guild though.

Rytlock: Can't say that I have. Can't say that I didn't.

Pliskin: Chuckling You're always mysterious Rytlock.

Rytlock: I'm just more reluctant to let loose on my past.

Pliskin: That sword, your homeland. Don't have a lot of answers do you?

Rytlock: Kid, the truth is ugly. But, seeing you're seventeen I don't think you can handle it.

Pliskin: Why?

Rytlock: Considering you charged in headfirst to duel that goliath, I don't think you're gonna like my story.

Pliskin: Oh please, I can take backstories and exposition quite well if you ask me.

Reinhardt: I beg to differ. Remember when I told you the story of your parents?

Pliskin: Whatever, I actually handled the story of my mother dying at Eichenwalde and my father dying at Hyjal. Besides, I consider you more of a dad and a brother more than my actual parents.

Reinhardt: Smirks You shouldn't have.

But that doesn't justify rushing in to save my arse.

Pliskin: Consider it good faith for me to rush in and charge that son-of-a-bitch.

Reinhardt: It can sometimes cause greater damage than harm. Considering the wreck we made out of this banquet hall.

Rytlock: Yeah, considering that we trashed the place.

Pliskin: Are we just going to leave it here?

Rytlock: Probably. Gonna be one hell of a mess those attendants are gonna have to fix.

Pliskin: We can fix it ourselves Rytlock.

Rytlock: Sighing Considering we're on a pretty tight schedule here, I'm just gonna leave this mess to clean up.

Pliskin: Anyone here at least that would be kind enough repair this? Or like sort this out?

Reinhardt: I don't see anyvone that would fix it here but ourselves.

Pliskin: (Shrugging at Reinhardt's comment.) Whatever. I usually ask or offer to help before I start doing.

Rytlock: Just leave it. Guaranteed some mage or wizard knows Reparo or some sort of repair spell.

Pliskin: So where do we meet you?

Rytlock: Upstairs. As always.

 _[Exit Rytlock]_

Pliskin: Well Rein, you going?

Reinhardt: After you Pliskin.

 _[Exeunt]_

 **End of Act One**


	2. Act Two:

**Act Two:**

 **Prelude**

[The center of the arena, workers are building something in the center of the arena.]

 _[Enter Foreman]_

Foreman: Move it you bloody idiots! We aren't going t' finish this structure if ya' keep dozing off!

 _[Enter a worker]_

Worker One: (Walking towards the foreman.) Sir!

 _(He salutes.)_

Foreman: What is it now?

Worker One: (Timidly) It's, just a question, sir.

I was wondering if, you could tell _us_ about this uh, building you're making.

Foreman: Chuckling Hah! Like I have to tell you anything, get back t' work!

Worker One: But sir, it isn't-

Foreman: [Interjected] Now now, save your breath on something more pressing, such as your wages.

Worker One: I'm not the on-

Foreman: [Interjected] Aah! I said, save your breath.

Worker One: (Words muddled together.) _The arena heads are demanding to know what this is._

Foreman: (Visibly shocked.) Aha, so me bosses want t' know what this shyte is then 'eh?

 _[Enter Hector]_

Worker One: There they come…

Hector: What is this?

Foreman: Ah! Hector!

 _(He moves to embrace the man.)_

Hector: Don't talk to me like that good sir.

Foreman: Ah, yes good sirrah! Come come, look at this marvelous piece we've been constructing!

Hector: And what is this supposed to be?

 _(He wanders around the half finished structure.)_

Foreman: Would ya' loike me to tell you then sirrah?

Hector: Very well.

Foreman: Good arena manager, I find that the last, few matches we've hosted have been terribly underwhelming.

If only there was, well, something we could do but! I already solved it. Behold this structure!

Hector: It's almost like a playground. All child's play.

Foreman: Oh, no no no! It's going t' be bloody big.

Hector: How big?

Foreman: Huge.

Hector: Can I trust you to deliver a good performance then?

Foreman: Of course!

Hector: Because the funny thing is, is that you have been a terrible coordinator of these events.

Foreman: What?

Hector: Don't play around with me fool. The past three inventions of your sort have resulted in the best fighters we've had dead.

Foreman: Come on mate! Ya' ain't Magnus t' Bloody Handed! Gimme a chance.

Hector: Mangus was effective, yet yielded to anything that came his way. I was brought in to alleviate that. So tell me, what can this do?

Foreman: It's large enough t' carry eight horses! And hold fifty as well!

Hector: When do you expect this to be completed?

Foreman: When you turn around and walk that direction.

Hector: (Stunned) So be it then. If you fail to deliver, come talk to me after.

Foreman: Then what?

Hector: You'll find out sooner or later.

 _[Exit Hector]_

Foreman: That was easier than I thought.

Worker One: M-May I ask who commissioned you to, uh, build this structure?

Foreman: Consider it a payment from some Rings per say. Now scram!

 _[Exeunt]_

* * *

 ** **Scene One:**** **  
**

[The ramparts of the Arena, providing a wide view of the city. Rylock is already there with tables and chairs as a makeshift war room.]

Rytlock: So based on past matches…

 _[Enter Pliskin and Reinhardt]_

Pliskin: [Interjected] We're here!

Reinhardt: Ja, those damned stairs and hallways, too small for my armor.

 _(He slams his hammer on the ground.)_

Pliskin: I had to help this old geezer with walking up stairs. Surprised for a knight that's aged-

Reinhardt: [Interjected] Fourty! My short hair is returning and I shaved off my mustache.

Pliskin: Whatever you say old fossil.

Rytlock: Cute. Now where's Sly and Nate?

Pliskin: Visiting Grog in the med-bay.

Reinhardt: Guess that leaves us then.

Rytlock: Until they come back dragging 'em.

Pliskin: (Walking around the ramparts.) What a view. Arena managers let you set up shop here?

Rytlock: Kid, when you're a tribune you get many perks in Lion's Arch.

Pliskin: I mean I was an apprentice to that blacksmith you two left me at.

Rytlock: It's a hell of a' experience growing up here.

Pliskin: Obviously speaking. This is the most diverse city here on Azeroth, not including the Free Cities or Runeterra.

Rytlock: True.

Pliskin: (Continuing to the table.) How the hell did get these action figures of us?

Rytlock: They're figurines kiddo.

Pliskin: Back in Moscow I was forced to use my action figures as those figures on the map.

Rytlock: Look, are ya' gonna pay attention or what?

Reinhardt: (Picks up his figurine.) Did you buy zhis from a vendor?

Rytlock: Okay, sit your asses down and listen.

 _(Pliskin and Reinhardt sit down on several chairs. Reinhardt is comedically squatting down on a stool.)_

Rytlock: Sorry for not getting one of those armor-ready chairs.

Pliskin: I'm sure the old guy can handle squatting down. You sure your armor has that sitting function Overwatch installed?

 _(He smirks.)_

Reinhardt: Halt die Klappe!

Pliskin: Might wanna upgrade your armor then. Don't want someone to exploit some outdated features.

Rytlock: Are you two going to shut up already?

Pliskin: Sorry.

Rytlock: Anyways, this is what I could gather from those little birds 'round here.

They're apparently going all out, and we can expect a direct assault if we go there charging in.

Pliskin: So what should we look out for then?

Rytlock: I was thinking you should go out of range, shoot 'em with your rifle or something.

Reinhardt: And vhat about me then?

Rytlock: (Pointing to the center.) This, you're going to form the bulwark of our team.

Keep 'em off of our asses if you can.

Reinhardt: How about Sly and Nate?

Rytlock: Covering our flanks I suppose. While your friend is a jack of all trades, we need to watch if they try something silly.

Pliskin: Grog and you?

Rytlock: Gonna hang out with Rein in the center.

Pliskin: So offense then?

Rytlock: Yup. Don't take it against you.

Pliskin: What do you mean?

Rytlock: Well, you're always in it for the action. I'd recommend you stay put and pinpoint what looks scary to 'ya.

Pliskin: Uh, I wasn't expecting _that_ though.

Reinhardt: Ah, you'll be fine friend!

Pliskin: Thanks. Any curveballs or something like that?

Rytlock: Nope. If they release animals or at least a horse, mount it ASAP.

Pliskin: So are they coming or-

 _[Enter Sly and Nathan Drake]_

Sly: He's coming up right now.

Nathan Drake: He's pissed.

Rytlock: What? What do you mean right now? How in the blazes did he get out of the med bay?

Sly: Grog insisted on coming up here.

Pliskin: But why though?

Nathan Drake: Blame it on his attitude, and the booze too.

Reinhardt: Did zhey sedate him?

Sly: Not sure, but they mentioned morphine and other drugs.

Pliskin: It might be the drugs that are causing him to act out.

Rytlock: I dunno, but ready your weapons if he's gonna be thrashing about.

 _(They ready their weapons.)_

 _[Enter Grog]_

Grog: (Footsteps cause rumbling) Bloody 'ell! Can't fucking, think straight with all these drugs in me system!

Rytlock: Stay back.

 _(He moves towards Grog who is kneeling.)_

Rytlock: You good?

Grog: (Spits at his feet.) What does it look like?

 _(The group holds down their weapons.)_

Pliskin: You're coughing up blood Grog.

Grog: (Spitting even more ichor.) What does it look like boy?

Pliskin: Couldn't help but to apologize.

Grog: You call that an apology?

 _(He coughs again.)_

You only pointed out the obvious!

Rytlock: Guess like our ace in the hole sprung a leak.

Sly: What type of leak?

Rytlock: A blood one if you're thinking it's some bodily function.

 _(He pulls Grog to a chair.)_

Now listen, we got a plan. Either we go through with it or we bullshit it, understand?

Grog: (Chuckles) Hah! I expect that we're going to bullshit this match aren't we?

Pliskin: Not if you're going to be bossing us with that attitude.

Grog: (Gives a bloodied smile) If you've gone through what I've been through boy, maybe then you'll understand.

Pliskin: Trust me, I've been through enough.

Grog: 'ave you ever seen your guildmates fall and die before you? Your friends just leave?

Maybe if you've got an ounce of remorse, you'll see what I've seen!

Pliskin: Enough!

 _(He knocks down the figures on the table.)_

Reinhardt: Calm down junger wolf.

Rytlock: Easy, he's just in a daze.

Pliskin: (Huffing.) Y-you're right. Apologies for my abrupt change of character.

Now where were we?

Rytlock: Okay then, so listen up!

Sly and Nathan Drake: Aye!

 _(Grog is still sitting there, he holds his face up with his arms crossed.)_

Rytlock: We're probably gonna bullshit this thanks to Mr. Groggy Pants there, so pay attention.

Our main target is their big guy in the center. He's leading the bulwark.

Reinhardt: That's where I come in.

Rytlock: Right. Grog, you and I are gonna back up Rein. No exceptions.

Grog: (Muttered.) Go' it!

Rytlock: (Pointing to Sly and Nathan.) You two.

Sly and Nathan Drake: Yeah?

Rytlock: Cover our flanks. They got goons that are highly mobile so watch your backs.

Sly: What are they like though?

Rytlock: Dunno. Heard they can teleport or something.

Sly: Like a cloaking device?

Rytlock: Possibly.

Nathan Drake: I think I know how they, well, blend in.

Pliskin: How so?

Nathan Drake: This may seem outta the blue but I got this crazy idea that's been itching me.

Rytlock: Just say it.

Nathan Drake: 'k so, ready to hear what crap I got in my brain?

Reinhardt: Go on with it.

 _(They huddle around Nathan Drake.)_

Nathan Drake: So, normally, roguish people have the ability to blend in with their surroundings right?

Pliskin: I know how that works though.

Nathan Drake: What if some of those members are part of this super secret cult group?

Rytlock: That's bullshit. Literally speaking.

Nathan Drake: (Shrugging it off.) Yeah yeah, I know, but hear me out!

 _(Rytlock grunts and rolls his eyes.)_

Nathan Drake: Anyways, besides grumpy cat, I was gonna suggest that they're some sort of Abbadon worshipping group.

Reinhardt: (Stuttering) I, uh. Don't know vhat to make out of it.

Grog: (Standing up and cackling.) Well, well, well! Look what the adventurer says!

A cult dedicated to a dead god? Hah!

Pliskin: The Twilight Hammer would like to have a word with you then.

Grog: Shut it boy!

Nathan Drake: Can you two shut up?

Grog: Only if he does! Both Pliskin and Rytlock.

Rytlock: I didn't even-

Pliskin: [Interjected] I'm just gonna happily oblige.

Nathan Drake: Well, according to old logs I researched before, it seems like that's the case.

They're even tied to the Dark Brotherhood.

Rytlock: Wow.

Reinhardt: Are we supposed to believe zhat?

Nathan Drake: Inexplicably so.

Sly: So what does that leave us?

Rytlock: It means that our adventurer has thrown in the wild card.

Nathan Drake: No thanks to me.

Pliskin: If this is true, what does that mean for our entire strategy?

Rytlock: I don't know. Looks like we're gonna be bullshitting it then.

Grog: I knew it.

Reinhardt: Got some words to say? Tongue tied?

Grog: If it wasn't for your friend I'd gladly smash his head in.

Pliskin: (Shouted.) Okay enough! I've had it with you and this team!

Do you all really think we stand a chance if we keep bickering around? NO, we don't.

I'm sick and tired of everyone screaming around saying, "Oh Grog, it's YOU whose causing this mess" and "Rytlock, your leadership stinks like a skritt's cesspool!"

Balthazar! You all have issues. Including myself.

Grog: (Stunned.) Allright.

Sly: Yeah uh, nice speech you gave us.

Rytlock: Look Pliskin if it makes you-

Pliskin: [Interjected] I'm out. Meet you at the gates for the match.

 _[Exit Pliskin]_

Rytlock: And he left.

Reinhardt: It's best if we avoid him until we get down.

Grog: He walked out, I walked out. It's even.

 _(Everyone looks at him.)_

Nathan Drake: The fuck does that mean?

Rytlock: It means that he doesn't consider Pliskin a slimy bug anymore. By his standards.

Grog: (Standing up.) Precisely so!

 _(Rytlock and Grog begin to talk.)_

Sly: _(Whispered to Nathan.) This guy is insane._

 _First he goes off on a tirade against Rytlock, now he's suddenly buddy-buddy with him now._

Nathan Drake: _(Whispered to Sly.) No shit! Look, if it was me, boot Grog off the team and bring in the Hound._

Sly: _(Whispered to Nathan.) This isn't some sporting event! We can't just kick a member out for no apparent reason!_

Reinhardt: _(Whispered to the both of them.) You both know I can hear you two bickering?_

Nathan Drake: _(Whispered to Reinhardt.) It's not bickering, more like a friendly argument._

Reinhardt: _(Whispered to Sly.) Vhat was zhis about then?_

Sly _(Whispered to Reinhardt.) Mainly about how Grog's standards are out of proportion._

 _I mean look at him! He's smiling and agreeing with Rytlock!_

Reinhardt: _(Whispered to the both of them.) I dunno about zhat. Can be zhe way he perceives honor and glory.)_

Sly: _(Whispered to Reinhardt.) Honor and glory?_

Reinhardt: _(Whispered to Sly.) Ja! We Crusaders always had a different sense of honor than what zhese pit fighters think is honorable._

Sly: This doesn't make much sense actually.

Grog: Huffs Well, if you came where I hail from, this is how we honor our debts to one another.

Nathan Drake: What?

Grog: (Snorts.) In a far off land that is too small for your standards, we goliaths hold grudges amongst each other.

Reinhardt: And how does zhat usually end up?

Grog: Either one of us tosses the feud away or we even ourselves out.

Nathan Drake: So, you can just drop a feud like that anywhere?

Wish the Hatfields and McCoys took a queue from that.

Grog: Not quite mate. It's bloody formal to negotiate a feud out. Goliaths opt for t' latter.

Rytlock: How do you even yourself out then?

Grog: Like you just seen with that boy and I.

He strook at me and drew blood, I strook at him and I drew blood. We're even then.

Reinhardt: I don't see zhe logic in zhat.

Grog: (Smirking.) Be glad I didn't think of anything else to do to your friend, Rein.

Reinhardt: (Snarls.) I'll make sure you don't do anyzhing to him.

Grog: Heh, believe me Reinhardt, you can try anything to save him but I guarantee something will happen to that boy.

 _[Exit Grog]_

 _(A horn can be heard in the distance.)_

Sly: What's that?

Rytlock: That's our signal, let's go!

 _[Exit Rytlock]_

Sly: They're starting the match already?

Nathan Drake: I think, Sly you still have those weapons?

Sly: (Pulling out his pistol.) I do.

Nathan Drake: Great, so we can ambush-

Reinhardt: (Turning his back to face them.) Vhat do you two zhink you're doing?

Sly: (Sliding his pistol back into his ankle holster.) Nothing!

Reinhardt: I thought I heard something about smuggling. Is zhat true?

Nathan Drake: Nope. I already got my weapons here.

 _(He shows his PM-9mm, yet also has a Colt, M1911 stashed in his satchel.)_

Reinhardt: Hmph. You know zhe punishment if you smuggle weapons in.

Even inside zhe arena, if you get caught with a smuggled weapon, it's all over.

Sly: Over? Like match over?

Reinhardt. No, figuratively over. I heard zhey send in zhe guards to stop zhe match.

Sly: Oh, that's unsettling.

Nathan Drake: No kidding. Last time I was in this city, I got in jail for one comment I made about that Ellen Kiel?

Sly: Right. They said something about you being jailed if she won the election.

Nathan Drake: Yeah, whatever.

Reinhardt:I'm just warning you two. Now let's go.

 _[Exeunt]_

* * *

 **Scene Two:**

[The stables of the Arena.]

 _[Enter Sly and Nathan Drake]_

Sly: Why did we have to meet here?

 _[Enter Grog]_

Grog: Per my instructions, I'm going to give you a few wise words.

Nathan Drake: And what is that?

Grog: You're going to do as I say.

Sly: Isn't that blackmail?

Grog: Depends how you take it mate.

Nathan Drake: Anyways, come and tell it.

Grog: (Leans into the huddle.) I have a plan.

Sly: (Groans.) Don't we all have our hidden agendas?

Nathan Drake: I'm sure we attempted to conspire at least once or twice during our run here at Lion's Arch.

Grog: Well, I got something else I'd like to add, and you're all welcome to cash in on gold if we make it out alive.

So hear me out and keep your mouths shut about this whole gig.

Sly: But why-

Grog: [Interjected] Shut it!

Sly and Nathan Drake: (Submissively.) Yes Grog.

Grog: Now, you see these boxes I have here?

Sly: Yeah, what's so special about them?

Nathan Drake: Looks like a treasure chest to me. Are we gonna bury some gold a la Captain Kidd?

Grog: Not that. Open it.

 _(They open the chests.)_

Now do you see what's in it?

Sly: Yeah, I uh. Don't know what to make of it.

Nathan Drake: How is this supposed to be valuable again?

Grog: It's worth thousands, for the military of course.

Nathan Drake: The military? What, you broke into the Federal Reserve and stole the Crown Jewels?

Grog: Thanks for the exaggeration.

Nathan Drake: This is honestly crap. I've been to arms deals, stuff like that on the black market.

How the heck do you have this shit?

Grog: I said, don't ask.

Sly: So what do we do with them?

Grog: Sighs First, poke as many holes in the bottom of the chest.

Nathan Drake: Why so?

Grog: It's all part of the plan for fucks sake! Shut up and listen!

Now, once you're done doing that, attach them to as many horses that are near the gate. ASAP.

Sly: Which gate though?

Grog: Any! Now do what you're told!

 _[Exit Grog]_

Nathan Drake: Quite a ridiculous plan am I right?

Sly: No kidding. Even in the most outlandish of heists, I never had the inclination to steal something like that.

Nathan Drake: What do you think he intends to use it for?

Sly: I don't know ask the big guy himself! He's probably more crafty than all of us here.

Nathan Drake: Well, besides Pliskin, you, me…

Sly: I know that! But-

 _[Enter Guard]_

Guard One: You there!

 _(He walks up to Sly and Nathan Drake. They are small compared to him.)_

Sly: Hello there.

Guard One: What are in those boxes?

Nathan Drake: Oh come on! Haven't you heard the right to privacy?

Guard One: (Chuckles.) This isn't under the jurisdiction of Lion's Arch you know?

Arena guards have full right to search and loot whatever we want.

Sly: That's pretty shifty and shitty by my standards. As a thief of course.

Guard One: (Facing Sly) Oh, the magnificent Sly Cooper. Down on your luck huh?

Sly: Not exactly. I'm conducting business as usual around here.

Guard One: Business you say 'eh? What are you selling?

Sly: Well, I'm uh. Selling stocks of course! Pardon for the lack of formal clothing but, I can only offer you shares in paper and writ.

Guard One: I'm listening. I'm retiring in a few months too.

Nathan Drake: Sly, I don't-

Sly: [Interjected] Now good fellow! How much do you want at stake?

 _(To himself:) I don't know what I'm saying._

We offer uh, a maximum of 15% of the shares in our company dear fellow!

Guard One: Oh really then? How much do I need to pay up front?

Sly: Well good sir, come back with your money and I'll give you some plans to maintain your amount of the shares!

Guard One: Oh goody. Gotta fetch my wallet then.

 _[Exit Guard.]_

Nathan Drake: That was a close one.

Sly: No kidding, well. I used to be a con artist. Pretty decent actually.

Nathan Drake: It's practically written in your Raccoon DNA.

Sly: Could be. Or could be from my connections though.

 _(He coughs.)_

Like you.

Nathan Drake: Really now? Says the guy who busted my deal in Bangkok.

Sly: The Bangkok setup was Overwatch's planning. Blame Jack Morrison for the mess.

Nathan Drake: Can't really forgive him now since this was the only way to get a good standing again.

Sly: (Peering around.) I think he's taking way too long to get back.

Nathan Drake: Want to make a bail for it?

Sly: That's what I was planning.

 _[Exeunt]_

 **Scene Three:**

[The entrance to the pits, it is located near a stable.]

 _[Enter Pliskin]_

Pliskin: What's that over there?

 _[Enter Rytlock]_

Rytlock: I don't know. They're building some sort of structure.

Pliskin: What do you think it's for?

Rytlock: Like I said, I don't know.

Where's Reinhardt?

 _[Enter Reinhardt]_

Reinhardt: I'm here, what's zhe matter?

Rytlock: Ah, there you are. Apparently they're building this building in the middle of the arena.

Reinhardt: Zhe hell?

Pliskin: Who thinks of doing that for a title match?

Rytlock: Might be a way to gain ratings.

Pliskin: Ratings? This isn't television though.

Rytlock: Television sure, but the Arena needs to spruce things up if they want to make money.

Pliskin: Seems like a shitty way though.

Rytlock: Don't blame me for the arena's plan.

 _[Enter Grog]_

Grog: I've sent Sly and Nate on another little errand now.

Rytlock: What did you send them to do now?

Grog: A bit of horse ridin'. Maybe two or three circles around the arena.

Rytlock: The hell? Why did you make 'em ride around in damn circles?

Grog: You'll see.

Rytlock: (Pushes Grog against a pillar.) What are you doing?

Tell me now before I spill your guts!

Pliskin: Rytlock! That's enough.

Rytlock: We can't trust him! I know what he's going to do!

Grog: (Chuckling) I can't get enough of this charr!

 _(The crowd's roars grows louder.)_

Reinhardt: Grog-

Grog: [Interjected] Do you really think I could trust you Rytlock?

Got any clue of what happened in the Shiverpeaks?

Rytlock: You wouldn't dare!

 _(He drops Grog down.)_

Grog: (Cackling.) I would.

You were a scrapper remember. Stationed at that light-forsaken outpost in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, you had to murder and kill to get yourself to the top of the warband. Typical.

Rytlock: (Drawing his sword.) Don't you say another word.

Grog: Oh believe me, your friends deserve to know every bit of your past.

Pliskin: Why would I care about Rytlock's history?

Grog: Pliskin, boy, you think you fought with this charr?

Pliskin: (Moving closer.) I did. Young, but I gained experience.

Grog: Heh... You never knew what happened to Rytlock while you were galavanting around with Reinhardt on Earth then.

Pliskin: I already do. He was a scraper, given. That's how the charr work.

If it's any charr that's more honest, I can trust Rytlock with my life besides Reinhardt.

Grog: (Scoffs.) He asked me and my guild to go and kill his superiors.

He could handle his first and second superiors for sure, but when it came to the legionnaire, he go' it handed to him.

 _(Pliskin continues to stare at Grog. Reinhardt continues to watch.)_

Grog: Rytlock contacted me and my guild in the middle of the night, and we took the garrison by surprise.

Needless to say, he owed me a blood debt.

Pliskin: You just had to blurt out his backstory in front of me.

And I thought screenwriters did a better job telling someone's story.

Reinhardt: Is zhis true then?

Rytlock: (Turning to face Reinhardt.) Yeah.

Grog: Got no words then?

All that time wallowing in your own tears wishing that Logan was there? Maybe Pliskin?

I know what you told me.

Rytlock: Fine. We'll go ahead. Where's Sly and Nate then?

 _[Enter Sly and Nathan Drake, the latter is dressed in armor.]_

Nathan Drake: We're here!

Sly: Just in time too I think.

Grog: (Getting up.) Did you do what I asked y' two to do?

Nathan Drake: Yup! We attached those packages to the horses.

But what's inside the contents?

Grog: (Smiling.) Nothing of your concern.

Sly: Must be something good then. Are you smuggling something out of the Arena?

Grog: I'm not.

Nathan Drake: Hoarding some gold?

Grog: Not that either.

Nathan Drake: Rytlock, do you know?

Rytlock: (Turning to face them.) I do. I'm under my obligation to not say anything about it.

 _(The announcer calls out for the Iron Bulwark.)_

Announcer: _And now, we have our defenders, the gallant, the glittering, the glimmering, Gilded rings!_

 _(The crowd roars for the defending team.)_

Grog: They're announcing us now.

Rytlock: I can hear that.

Grab your weapons everyone.

Pliskin! You have everything?

Pliskin: Got 'em.

 _(He is holding a cavalry sword in one hand. He has a spear and a rifle on his back.)_

Nathan Drake: I thought you can only have two weapons at a time.

Rytlock: Not in certain cases. Only one person in the team can carry all of that shit.

Pliskin is relegated to that role.

Nathan Drake: So like an extended squire?

Reinhardt: Sort of.

Rytlock: Pliskin, the moment you see a horse. Grab it and go.

Pliskin: Understood.

Grog: (Roaring.) Now, are you ready to fight?!

Are you ready to conquer!

These are arena halls you venture into!

Sly and Nathan: Aye!

Grog: Are you ready, to slay?!

Sly and Nathan: Aye!

Grog: Then come on then!

Announcer: _And we have our challengers! From the far reaches of Earth, Stormwind, and Ascalon, we have our opposing team, the Iron Bulwark!_

 _(The crowd cheers even more.)_

Announcer: _Let's hear it for them!_

 _[Exeunt]_


	3. Act Three:

**Act Three:**

 **Scene One**

[The Arena Battle at Lion's Arch. The six of them begin to walk into the arena amidst cheers, roaring, at general crowd ambience.]

 _[Enter everyone.]_

Pliskin: (Drawn out.) Holy shit.

Rytlock: Seems like we're fighting on that.

Grog: Heh, guess that I was right after all.

Reinhardt: You, right? Since vhen did you make a guess at what vas the match going to be like?

Grog: You'll see.

Reinhardt: See? We're already in zhe match!

Of course we can't make any other arrangements now!

 _(The gate behind them closes.)_

Sly: Well, we're trapped in for good now.

Announcer: _Annd we're off to today's match everyone! The Gilded Rings versus the Iron Bulwark of uh, Earth!_

Sly: I mean, technically not all of us are from Earth.

Announcer: _Now, we all want a clean fight don't we?_

 _Now, just a lil' friendly reminder that there will be no cheatin' whatsoever here in this arena? Got it?_

Grog: Spits on floor Bah! Everyone knows that we pit fighters cheat around here.

Pliskin: Yeah, where's the honor it that?

Grog: It's stand and fight, or fall and die in the arena!

Pliskin: Well, if that was the case, then we might as well fight honorably to the death!

Grog: Hah! Reinhardt, you taught this boy well!

Reinhardt: Don't be so sure, for there is another.

Grog: Another? Some sort of prophecy you got in your head old man?

Reinhardt: No, someone that I have trained before.

Pliskin: Not to mention that he's technically forty so.

Rytlock: Quick babbling about and focus on what they're doing!

 _(They get into a V-formation.)_

Announcer: _Aha! I see that they're getting into a standard wing formation!_

Nathan: Can that announcer-guy just shut up and get to the point?

Announcer: _So! Rule number one, and that is overturned in this case,_

 _No killing! Well, you can do it if you desire in this match only though._

 _And please, please, please! Use the big ol' structure thing in the center! The foreman ain't gonna like it if it's gonna go into disuse!_

Nathan Drake: So what's our plan with the castle?

Sly: You're seriously calling it a castle?

Nathan Drake: I mean it does look like a castle!

Height, length, everything.

Rytlock: Looks more like a kitty playground.

Pliskin: Cat playground? Self-deprecating much?

Rytlock: Yes, _very_ self-deprecating.

 _(They continue moving forward in their V-Shape formation.)_

Grog: Ready up! They're coming in!

 _(The Gilded Rings move in to charge.)_

Rytlock: Charge!

Pliskin: Go!

Reinhardt: Honor, and glory!

 _(They clash under the structure.)_

Sly: On your tail Pliskin, lanky dude coming in hot!

 _(A short, hooded man comes in with his blade, Pliskin is able to parry him.)_

Pliskin: I know!

 _(He attempts to riposte.)_

It's just that, these people fight hard!

Rytlock: Was that all you have to say?

Pliskin: More precisely, yes!

 _(Rytlock hurls his sword, a blazing red-orange spit of flame emitting from the blade.)_

Rytlock: Could say the same thing but I'm busy-

 _(He attempts to slice.)_

Dueling this person!

Grog: This isn't some wizard duel, just do whatever's natural to you!

Pliskin: Natural? This is an arena battle!

Grog: Pit fight!

 _(Pliskin trips and slides backwards, though he slashes the face of his opponent. He is enraged.)_

Pliskin: Crap.

 _(He swings his sword at Pliskin, misses and hits a beam.)_

Reinhardt: Hah! You got 'em then young wolf!

Pliskin: Not so fast, he's after me!

Grog: Then get 'em!

 _(He is punched across the face.)_

Pliskin: Fine!

 _(He runs and climbs up the structure. A rope bridge connects the entire structure together.)_

Pliskin: Allez you fool!

Rytlock: God, can you shut up already! This isn't a gentleman's sport!

Pliskin: Well, sorry to burst your perception good chap, but I still have a sense of honor to me!

Rytlock: Now you're sounding as Brit as Lena.

Reinhardt: Lena? Tracer?

Rytlock: Not right now old man, you gotta keep this together!

Nathan Drake: Great words of advice chief!

Grog: Hah! You should be thanking me instead of him!

Rytlock: Who, me?

 _(He drives his blade in between Grog's axe and an opponent's greatsword.)_

Announcer: _And a great defensive maneuver by the tribune!_

 _(The crowd roars.)_

Rytlock: Defensive maneuver my ass!

Pliskin: This thing is getting shaky as hell!

Reinhardt: Zhen set your footing to be-

 _ARGH!_

 _(He is hit with an arrow.)_

Pliskin: Rein!

Rytlock: Stay where you are Pliskin!

 _(Pliskin begins to slide down the structure, dust is all over his tuxedo.)_

Pliskin: I gotta help!

 _(He jumps on Reinhardt's shoulders and catapults himself to the other iron brute. He shouts.)_

Sly: Look out!

 _(Pliskin's previous opponent jumps down from the rafters to get him off of the equally sized man as reinhardt.)_

Pliskin: How the hell were they able to find a dude as big as Reinhardt?

 _(Reinhardt's shield clashes with the other's shield.)_

Grog: Maybe, if those two idiots did a bit more studying, you would find out!

Nathan Drake and Sly: Oh so now you're blaming us then!

Grog: (Spits at his opponent's face.) Just wait 'till they release the horses and I'll thank you soon enough!

 _(He uses the handle of his greataxe to stun his foe.)_

Pliskin: Nice one Grog!

Grog: I already knew that!

 _(They continue to fight.)_

Announcer: _How long do you think this fight has been going on folks?_

 _(The crowd continues to cheer, only for more action.)_

Announcer: _Well, don't you think we should let in the animals?_

 _(The crowd roars in agreement! They began to chant for the pitmasters to release the beasts.)_

Announcer: _Well, you asked for it folks, here comes the weekly beast fight!_

 _(The cage doors open, as the frenzied snorting of animals are heard.)_

Sly: They're opening the gates!

Rytlock: Don't set your hopes up! It's the animals!

Pliskin: The band or the real deal?

Rytlock: You know what I mean!

 _(Animals are released, though it's three wolves and a couple of horses.)_

Grog: Horses? Hah! This should be great.

 _(The horses begin running around as one is in combat with a wolf.)_

Reinhardt: Pliskin, get on one of them!

Rytlock: No! Don't!

Pliskin: (Wounding one the armored man he is on.) Why? I thought that was the plan!

Rytlock: Because there'- _GARGH!_

 _(He is bashed with a shield.)_

Grog: Stick to the plan! Get on one of those horses!

Rytlock: Don't!

Pliskin: Sly, Nate? Should I?

Nathan Drake: Up to you, buckeroo!

Sly: With Nate, do what you want!

Pliskin: Reinhardt, your thoughts?!

 _(He momentarially staggers.)_

Reinhardt: Do vhat honor compels you!

 _(Pliskin looks around, visibly confused. He is trying to decide what he need to do.)_

Pliskin: _Well…_

I'm heading for one of those horses!

Rytlock: NO!

 _(He is bashed again in the head.)_

Grog: Everything is falling into plan!

Rytlock: Plan? You're gonna kill him Grog!

Grog: It's crafty thinking! Like you Ash Legion!

Announcer: _Hey! A shoutout from Grog Strongjaw to Ash Legion, let's hear it for some Ash Legion warbands!_

 _(There is a noticeable cheer.)_

 _And who's gonna get on that horse first? Looks like a race between Pliskin and that Sylvari there!_

Pliskin: Oh no you don't!

 _(He pulls out a revolver and fires three warning shots into the air, the horses rear up and begin to buck around.)_

Pliskin: Back away! Back away!

 _(He waves the revolver around.)_

Rytlock: Gods, is he really doing it?

Reinhardt: I zhink he is.

 _(Pliskin continues to run, he manages to saddle on the horse.)_

Pliskin: Step!

 _(The horse begins to gallop. He draws his sabre and rides the horse in a circle. A black substance falls onto the arena floor.)_

Rytlock: Come on!

 _(He clashes his sword against the weight of his opponent's greatsword.)_

You may think I'm an old cat, but I'm twenty-five!

 _(He punches his opponent's head.)_

In charr years!

Reinhardt: So you're around thirty zhen? Das brilliant!

Rytlock: Thirty two actually-

LOOK OUT!

 _(A beam comes crashing down in between Rytlock and Reinhardt.)_

How the hell is this thing falling apart?

Nathan Drake: I don't know, get the hell out of there then!

 _(He is pushed to the ground and pulls out his smuggled pistol. He fires a shot at his foe's leg.)_

Nathan Drake: Eat lead sucker!

Announcer: _What the? Is that an illegal weapon?_

 _(The crowd begins to boo.)_

 _Send in the guards!_

Rytlock: Ah fuck, did you really think that was a good idea?

Nathan Drake: (Getting up.) I could of died man! Cut me some slack!

Sly: Well, look out now since there's more guards on our asses!

 _(The arena gates open, twelve guards run into the arena and surround the group. A single rider begins to chase Pliskin on horseback.)_

Reinhardt: Pliskin!

Grog: Oi'! Wot the hell is going on now? Too busy dealing with this bloke!

 _(He is locked with another combatant.)_

 _(Nathan Drake shoots his pistol again, managing to land two rounds on Grog's opponent's hand.)_

Were those stolen? Hah! Crafty, the two of 'ya.

Nathan Drake: Well, what do ya' think? I'm in this to survive!

Reinhardt: We all are!

Sly: The hell is Pliskin?

Rytlock: That rider is gainin' on him!

Reinhardt: Do we help him?

Rytlock: Grog?

Grog: Up to you mates! Four of them Golden Rings here and twelve of those arena guards!

Rytlock: Think this means we go help him.

Reinhardt: (Shouted.) Then charge!

 _(They charge.)_

 _(Pliskin is still on horseback and draws his lance, though the horse is giving out. He begins to charge at Reinhardt's foe.)_

Reinhardt: Is he charging directly at-?

Rytlock: [Interjected] Might wanna duck Rein?

Reinhardt: Duck? Hah! Zhis old man never ducks down!

Rytlock: He's charging directly at you!

Pliskin: REINHARDT! DUCK NOW!

Rrragh!

 _(He slams the lance directly at Reinhardt's Opponent. He dies.)_

Nathan Drake: Great show Pliskin! Now get the hell off of that horse!

 _(Pliskin attempts to get off, but he can't.)_

 _(He goes offstage.)_

Pliskin: I-I can't!

Sly: What do you mean you can't?

Pliskin: My shoe and pants! They're bolted in due to the spurs!

Nathan Drake: Shake your leg then!

Rytlock: That ain't gonna do anything, Pliskin! Your best bet is to-

Grog: Continue riding until you feel like ya' can disengage!

Pliskin: How the hell do I do that?

Grog: Just continue riding!

Pliskin: I'm seriously going to regret this,

HYA!

 _(His horse starts galloping again to the roar of the crowd.)_

Nathan Drake: So do you mind telling us what the hell are in those boxes you attached to them horses?

Grog: What do you think dolts? Gunpowder of course!

Rytlock: Are ya' out of your mind? You're gonna blow this place to bits!

Grog: That was not part of my plan, but now it is!

Rytlock: You're gonna kill Pliskin in the process!

Grog: That was not also part of the plan.

Sly: So what do you think you're gonna do now huh?

Grog: I'm gonna get that boy off of that horse.

Reinhardt: (Shouted.) How?!

Grog: By saving our arses.

 _(He breaks off from his opponent and runs at the guards.)_

Rytlock: We gotta get outta this contraption thing.

Sly: Isn't that the plan now grumpy cat?

Rytlock: No shit! Get the hell out of here people before this thing blows to bits.

Reinhardt: (Yelled.) PLISKIN! Ya' might want to get out of zhat horse!

Pliskin: (From off-stage.) WHAT? I'm trying to dismount!

Reinhardt: Zhen find a way!

Pliskin: YEAH, if it wasn't for my shoes and dress pants, I'd gladly join ya' all!

What's the black thing trailing me though?

Reinhardt: Don't ask! Just get out of zhere!

 _(Pliskin returns to the stage. He stops in front of Reinhardt.)_

Pliskin: See! I can't get off!

Reinhardt: (Looking at the stirrup) It's snagged, I can't remove your boot without damaging your leg.

Pliskin: Then find a way! There always needs to be a way to do it without injuring my feet or leg!

Reinhardt: I can't! If I remove zhe saddle and all, you'd still have to drag it around you!

Pliskin: What about that gunpowder I dragged around? Is it-

Reinhardt: Don't ask about it!

Pliskin: Why's Grog running?

Reinhardt: I said don't ask!

 _(Pliskin is silent for a moment.)_

Pliskin: Then carry me Rein.

Reinhardt: Vhat? Are you considering that?

Pliskin: Carry me and cut the harness off with your hammer!

Reinhardt: I'll need to set you down zhen-

Pliskin: Then do it already!

Reinhardt: I'll need to use mein hammer though!

Pliskin: Reinhardt, you need to do this right now, if Grog is going to do what I think he's going to do-

 _(Reinhardt picks up Pliskin and sets him on the floor mid sentence. He picks up his hammer to cut the stirrup and the saddle in half, allowing for Pliskin to drag the straps around.)_

Reinhardt: Zhere!

Pliskin: That was all?

Reinhardt: No time for dilly dally young wolf, look over zhere!

 _(Rytlock, Sly, and Nate hold off the remaining Gilded Rings while Grog attempts to grab a torch held by one of the guards.)_

Pliskin: Crap…

Reinhardt: Let's go help zhem!

 _(He runs to go meet Rytlock.)_

Pliskin: (Petting the horse.) Easy, easy. Now go run as far away as you can.

 _(The horse gallops away. The crowd cheers for his compassion. Pliskin runs to meet Reinhardt and the others. They fight.)_

Rytlock: You just had to Grog did 'ya!

Grog: Can't blame the announcer for calling the guards in when those two smuggled in those weapons!

Reinhardt: Enough bickering, FIGHT!

 _(They continue to fight, though the gates open to reveal another person.)_

 _[Enter Foreman]_

Foreman: So, look 'o we 'ave 'ere.

Pliskin: The foreman? How the hell-

Foreman: 'tis me. No questions needed.

Now, shall we make a deal 'en mates? 'Os with me on 'at?

Reinhardt: We're not 'ere to play any of your little games now.

Rytlock: 'specially me after you outed Captain Magnus from his role as arena master here.

Foreman: Oh do ya' now?

Tell me Rytlock Brimstone, why is it do ya' seek most?

Rytlock: The hell do you want?

Foreman: Oh don't play me games lad, I know why y' and yer motley crew decided to join in on the opportunity to best a team funded by me.

Rytlock: So you're dishing all the details for your little crime-syndicate thing?

Foreman: Oh believe me, Jacob and Evie Frye send their regards, well, when I usurped the Rooks here.

Rytlock: You don't mean-

Foreman: [Interjected] Ah yes, 'twas me. Predictable I know.

They're former rooks, ya'll could o' known 'em for some time.

Probably don't care much for them anyways?

Pliskin: (Inching himself to the front of the crowd.) Listen here, sir. We're not taking kindly to what you have to say.

Foreman: Oh really then? Who was t' one who set you up with that fancy banquet?

You all should be grateful that I decided t' spare all of your miserable lives from the moment.

Grog: HE WAS THE ONE?

Foreman: Yep.

I'm the grand architect of this mess.

Now I have a deal for you, drop your investigation around here and live your lives with Overwatch and those miserable gangs.

Or die here.

Rytlock: (Chuckles.) You gotta be kidding me.

Sly: You're bluffing.

Nathan Drake: Oh yeah? Try me.

 _(He pulls out his pistol.)_

I can just kill you now and get this shit over with.

Pliskin: Nate, you're acting like Rafe now.

Nathan Drake: Oh yeah? I'm sick and tired of doing these fetch quests for people, let me just do something worthwhile for once!

Reinhardt: Nate, put down zhe gun.

Grog: Shoot him!

Rytlock: If you shoot him now you're putting the whole mission in jeopardy!

Nathan Drake: Don't make me.

Pliskin: Nate. Put down the gun.

 _(He is shaking. Nate is unsure as to what he's going to do.)_

Nathan Drake: Grog?

Grog: I know what you are going t' do.

 _(He nods his head and bows.)_

Nathan Drake: Dammit!

 _(He shoots Grog's captors and tosses the gun at the Foreman. Grog manages to catch the torch before it falls to the ground.)_

Grog: Now! Let's see who's in charge now!

Foreman: (Sighing.) What are your terms?

Grog: First, let me an' my mates free now. And answer some questions. And leave this shithole city.

Foreman: With money or any compensation?

Rytlock: Why should we pay _you_ most of all?

Foreman: Because I'm entitled to it.

Pliskin: You're not entitled to anything you bastard. You lied, cheated, sent us to our deaths in this shit arena.

Magnus would have done a better job.

Foreman: So what? You're going to cry to Magnus to give your what you need?

Pliskin: No, because you're gonna give us what we want.

Foreman: Or wot?

Pliskin: You die.

Foreman: (Cackling.) Me dying? So what? Your friend wasted all of his-

 _(A pistol shot is fired. Sly holds his smuggled pistol in his hand.)_

Foreman: So I see that he's also a sly bastard after all.

Sly: I'm just done with your talking.

 _(He looks at his wound. He is shot in the foot.)_

Sly: Be glad I decided to spare you.

 _(He throws the pistol aside, though the foreman picks it up and aims it at Sly.)_

Foreman: Don't think you're the wittiest now 'eh?

Sly: There's no more bullets in there.

Foreman: Oh believe me, I always come loaded.

 _(He reloads the magazine of the gun.)_

Rytlock: Come with us, now.

Foreman: No!

Reinhardt: Do it or we blow zhis place to bits!

Foreman: Go ahead! You're only delaying the inevitable. One move from any of you and you're a dead carcass.

Rytlock: Grog. If you're going to do anything, I suggest you make it quick.

Grog: Oh ya' bet I will.

Foreman: Or what?

Sly: We'll do this!

 _(Rytlock starts running, but then the Foreman fires att him but misses! Grog drops the torch at the gunpowder trail as Reinhardt scoops the Foreman up and carries him out of the gate. Everyone runs while the centerpiece of the arena is blown up. The remaining viewers watch and cheer.)_

 _[Exeunt]_

* * *

 **Scene Two:**

 _[Lion's Arch Proper.]_

 _[Enter All]_

Rytlock: So where's Blofield?

Foreman: Blofield? Hah! A name I never had before.

 _(Rytlock hits him.)_

Pliskin: You know him. Tell us everything.

Foreman: Or what? Send me to the Stockades? The Hague?

Reinhardt: We can leave you to die. Besides, you're in Lion's Arch now, arena guards won't do anyzhing.

Foreman: Heh, you know him already.

Ever been to Austria?

Rytlock: Why should I ever know that? I never been to Austria dammit!

Foreman: Because everything you seek is there.

Pliskin: Rytlock! Wait, Blofield. Do you know a prison there?

Foreman: Prison? He has a' many prisons.

Reinhardt: So the prison we visited wasn't just vone!

Foreman: Do you really want to know what Blofield knows?

Sly: Of course we do, everyone does.

Foreman: You all know nothing.

The Group: What do you mean nothing?

Foreman: Pretty ain't it? My own arena destroyed before my eyes.

 _[Enter Magnus]_

Magnus, the Bloody Handed: I'll think we'll take it from here Tribune Brimstone.

Rytlock: No problem.

Foreman

 _(He dies.)_

Rytlock: Dammit! We lost our only lead!

Pliskin: All's not lost though. I heard Bond was already in Austria.

Rytlock: Austria? So we all head there then?

Pliskin: Maybe. May be.

Reinhardt: Oh! Austria? I get to see Angela zhen!

Nathan Drake: Yeah, yeah, but does that mean I'm off the hook now from Overwatch?

Reinhardt: Consider it done.

Nathan Drake: Great.

Reinhardt: Vhat about Grog?

Pliskin: Hey, Grog!

Grog: Yeah?

Pliskin: You mind tagging along for another ride?

Grog: Heh, I think I've had too much already.

Pliskin: Too much? There's still a caper to be solved though.

Grog: Capers aren't my thing boy.

Pliskin: Wouldn't you love the chance at having an adventure?

Grog: Already have that though.

Pliskin: By what? Wallowing in boredom, going from town to town fighting in the pits?

I mean, Rytlock tried that but look where he is now!

Rytlock: I had to start at the bottom back though.

Pliskin: Never mind starting back at the bottom, but the adventure at hand? Take it!

Grog: I wouldn't enjoy being an adventuring companion to one of the most annoying boys I've encountered.

Pliskin: I'm seventeen!

Grog: Seventeen me arse. You look old enough to be twenty, yet you act with the innocence and hope of a eight year old.

Reinhardt: Ah, don't jest my friend about zhat! He picked it up from me, right?

Pliskin: That's true.

Rytlock: Look, if you're thinking about being buddy buddy with him, don't worry. Got his number and all.

Grog: If you ever need a Strongjaw, consider it settled. In blood boy.

 _(He pounds his chest.)_

Pliskin: Considered. Hit me up if you want to.

Reinhardt: So to Austria?

Rytlock: We rest, then go to Austria.

Pliskin: I'll see if I can get anyone else to tag along though, but yeah. Rest and maybe catch a transport on a freighter.

Reinhardt: (Sighs.) That was one hell of an Arena Battle.

Sly: Surely, Lion's Arch has a thing or two to remember.

 _[Exeunt]_

 **Fin.**

 **Make sure to like and review my first ever play! Go ahead and perform it if you want!**


End file.
